Monday, October 22, 2018

Eye. by Wanye F. Burke



a shag carpet of
golden leaves mixed
with brown
my brother and me
rake into a pile
and dive in:
in November the ground
turns hard
but we continue to play
football
and I get a lump of earth
into my eye socket
when I go down
and the socket swells and
turns black then brown
and I wear dark glasses to
school
and kids call me "movie star"
and ask to see the eye
which I show
every once in a while,

if in the mood.


Wayne F, Burke's poetry has appeared in a wide variety of publications. He has published five full-length poetry collections, 4 with Bareback Press, and one with Alien Buddha Press. Plus two poetry chapbooks with Epic Rites Press. He lives in the central Vermont area, USA.

No comments:

Post a Comment

"Bring It On Home To Me" by Matt Amott

She wanted to spend the day walking around the city but the rains came. Instead, we took shelter in the nearest dive, order...